


The Apology

by Ghostwriter (Zoya_Zalan)



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3575946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya_Zalan/pseuds/Ghostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title says it all. A short moment of fluff that the boys insisted I write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apology

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: George Lucas owns all things Star Wars; I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Many thanks to Master Hilary for the quick beta! As always, any mistakes in the final draft are entirely my own.
> 
> Written in October 2001.

~ * ~ * ~

I know he is approaching even though he tries to make his steps as light and soundless as possible; our connection through the Force ensures that neither of us will ever be caught unaware. His Force signature exudes the coolness of peace and serenity, a sharp contrast to the intense heat of annoyance which was present during our disagreement several hours ago. I'd left quickly when it appeared there was nothing more to be said, desperately needing time to myself.

Qui-Gon Jinn can be incredibly stubborn sometimes. Most of the time, actually. Personal matters are one thing — he is far more inclined to listen to other opinions in that area — but when I challenge him in matters of official import, my objections are often noted and dismissed all at once without due consideration. Tonight was one of those instances, and the experience left me feeling more like excess baggage than an informed colleague. I know he can't help it; it's in his nature to go against the grain, to follow his instincts above and beyond the prescribed set of procedures that govern our actions as Jedi. In a way, I admire him for that, but it will never prevent me from voicing what needs to be heard. That is _my_ duty, regardless of what he believes.

A gentle tickle at the back of my neck nearly causes me to smile, but I quell the urge quickly, turning my face further away from where he now stands beside me. My frustration over this has long passed, but it won't do any harm to let him sweat for a bit. The odd sensation continues to trail along my neck, its touch far too erratic to be that of a finger.

Steeling myself, I turn to see what it is, only to find my gaze locking with that of my master. His eyes are so incredibly blue in the light of the setting sun that I almost forget to breathe. Between that and the hopeful grin tugging at his lips, I am disarmed instantly, the frown I'd purposely set on my face smoothing away. I still fight back the smile though — I don't want to go there. Yet.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," he offers, his voice soft, filled with regret. "I don't wish to argue."

"Is my insight so unwelcome, Master?"

His gaze lowers as he pulls his arm back, the long feathery strands of the Tarka leaf he holds swaying in the breeze. He takes a long time to answer, choosing his words carefully. "It is sometimes difficult to see your point of view when the Force calls me to a different one so strongly."

My continued silence eventually draws his eyes back to mine. The pain of his honesty is written there, and he makes no move to hide it from me. I meet his stare openly, keeping my expression neutral.

"I should not have dismissed your thoughts so quickly."

The confession surprises me; he's not usually this forthcoming. Still, I have a point to make. "No, you shouldn't have."

He's fidgeting openly now, his gaze darting back down to the leaf in his hand. "I am... too obstinate. At times," he acknowledges. Reluctantly.

"Yes."

His gaze immediately seeks mine as he detects the amusement in my tone, but I deliberately look away. I've already forgiven him, of course. That was never in question, but I've decided to milk this apology for all it's worth.

He's grinning again, I can tell, his elation radiating through the Force like the wake of a passing ship. I see him move closer to me, but I turn my head further, pretending to ignore him. I feel the wispy tendrils of the leaf return then, sliding across my cheek. The delicate diversion, used before to help diffuse the tension between us, is now meant to tease. And it's working. I can't stop the faint smile that brightens my face, so I turn my whole body away from him, trying to make it seem as though I'm shutting him out. The tactic fails, much to my satisfaction.

I shudder involuntarily as his arms snake around my waist from behind, eager fingers moving in to exploit my biggest weakness. His strategy is cunning but predictable, and even though I try to pull away, his strength keeps me within his grasp.

Squirming delightedly, I can't help the ripple of laughter that escapes my throat as he begins his attack through the layers of my tunic. His lips are warm and wet against my cheek as he nuzzles me. "If your adversaries discovered how ticklish you are, there would be no need for weapons," he chuckles into my ear. Still laughing, I close my eyes and give up, leaning back against him and relaxing into the wonderful sensations. My surrender has the intended effect: the torture slows to a bearable level, only one finger continuing to wriggle across my abdomen where before there were ten.

"Forgive me?" he asks, kissing my temple.

I can't resist. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

Another chuckle vibrates against my skin before I feel my earlobe engulfed in the heat of his mouth. His lips and tongue work together to further convince me of his sincerity, leaving me trembling.

"Please?" The whisper is my undoing.

Tilting my head, I open my eyes once more, not surprised to find myself melting under the intense scrutiny of those beautiful blues. I'm falling in love all over again — I always do in moments like these, and the wonder of it all never ceases to amaze me. I'm a very, very lucky man.

Reaching up with one hand, I grasp the back of his head and pull him closer, our lips meeting with unhurried tenderness. He tastes of tea and passion, and I find that combination to be far more deliciously intoxicating than any of the galaxy's renowned liqueurs. I could drink of him forever.

Forever eventually ends though, both of us pulling apart to breathe as we stare into one another's eyes. I don't think he realizes how beautiful he looks with his kiss-swollen lips and the slight flush of arousal that touches his face. He is stubborn, yes — a continual source of strife between him and the rest of the universe — but I love him just the way he is.

His heartfelt apology has been accepted, but I refrain from saying so out loud. Perhaps I will later on, but not right now. Smiling broadly, I take his hand and guide him back towards the guest dwelling we're staying in for this mission, where the apology will no doubt continue until far into the night.

~ * ~ finis ~ * ~


End file.
